


Soren's Fantastical Askran Adventures

by fairmyrmidon



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Soren makes a friend, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 05:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21368959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairmyrmidon/pseuds/fairmyrmidon
Summary: Written for the Wind's Brand Zine!Soren appears in Askr, intimidates the summoner, and frightens everyone except for a healer who is already experienced in dealing with foul attitudes.
Relationships: Soren & Lucius
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43
Collections: Wind's Brand zine





	Soren's Fantastical Askran Adventures

Being summoned is a bizarre experience, and Soren does not care for it.

Ordinary magic is something that he can understand. Wind, fire, lightning. Spells. They create something tangible, something that can be seen, touched, comprehended. Summoning consists of none of this. Summoning makes no sense.

One minute he is filling out the mercenaries’ never-ending expense reports, and the next he appears outside a castle in a land he’s never seen.

He appears.

The summoner hesitates, book in hand, silent.

Soren does the first thing that comes to mind, and asks for Ike.

The summoner blinks. It appears to be the only action possible in the current moment. Eyes barely visible beneath a white hood, the summoner blinks and bites a lip in a way that is probably not supposed to make Soren feel as exasperated as he does. So Soren sighs, already annoyed, and takes several steps forward. He tries to ignore the way the summoner backpedals, alarmed at his sudden movement, and tries again. “If you aren’t going to speak, then I suppose you might send me back, then, to him? To my own world, where I am actually needed? Or do you plan on gaping like a fish all day?”

“N-no,” the summoner finally squeaks. “I mean… I don’t… know?”

“You must be fighting some sort of war, are you not?”

“Yes?”

“Very well. I will end your war, and then you will send me home.”

* * *

How fitting, to go from one war to another.

However, Soren has a few choice words for this company. While the Greil Mercenaries were hardly the perfect band, they were small enough and focused enough and smart enough not to make complete imbeciles of themselves--or, if they did, they had someone like Ike to bring them back into line.

Askr’s army is much larger than the Greil Mercenaries--larger than the army Ike commanded back during the Mad King’s War, even--and outside the battlefield the castle has devolved into absolute chaos. Soldiers are everywhere, chattering constantly, and the place is a downright mess.

Soren’s first mission upon arriving in Askr--besides offering his skills as a tactician to help keep the army alive--is to find a place to make himself scarce. Even back in Tellius, back with the Mercenaries, he always had some sort of corner to himself where he could work and study and not think about how much he wanted to strangle Shinon or Boyd with his bare hands.

The library is a good option, and at the moment it might be the best one he has. However, it is still so loud. There are people coming and going constantly, checking out books, talking, laughing. The usual general obnoxiousness. But Soren makes the most of it--he takes a few books and finds the quietest corner he can, barricades himself in, and waits for the library to empty.

It does so slowly. Luckily few people talk to him--the novelty of a new mage and tactician is starting to wear off, and when that does not work a few brusque words will suffice. He brushes off a pegasus knight’s rapidfire questions about his homeworld (“_He’s worse than Navarre_,” she pouts, before stalking off with her friends) and settles down to an evening studying Askran mythology when a blond head appears from around the corner.

The blond head belongs to a man, dressed in the robes of a healer. Soren guess that he is a man, despite his feminine appearance, from the stories that float around the army of the few healers they have. The man blinks, and his eyes widen in recognition before he exclaims, “_There_ you are!”

Soren pauses. “Excuse me?

“You’re that boy from that new world, yes?”

“I suppose,” he answers with a sigh. “If you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do than socialize. Like study so that I can keep this army alive.”

The healer deflates. Soren does not know what sort of thoughts are going through the man’s head--nor does he care to know--but he watches the flash of emotions play out on his face. It settles on some sort of frozen, speechless expression as he finally says, “I’m sorry. I--I thought--”

“You thought what?”

“N-nothing. I’m sorry to have bothered you. If you’ll excuse me--”

The blond healer vanishes back behind the bookshelves, and Soren only contemplates the absurdity of the encounter for a moment before returning his attention to his book.

* * *

Two days in, more heroes arrive, and everyone finally forgets about the antisocial tactician from the world no one is from hiding in the back of the library.

Soren himself is not even sure why he’s still in the library. He is not sure what he is supposed to be looking for. This army is ragtag, but it apparently consists of warriors of all words and times, summoned just like him. There are other tacticians here as well, good ones--even the famed Kiran who can barely speak three words off a battlefield without dissolving into an apologetic mess. Of course, Soren knows the superiority of his own mind and his own tactics, but there is still that awful voice in the back of his mind, the one that whispers _they don’t need you, they’re fine without you, they wouldn’t want you if they knew who you were anyway._ Soren stifles that voice the best he can, but still lets the other tacticians talk and argue over his head, only speaking when prompted or to point out when a current plan is certain to end in disaster.

Soren knows it doesn’t matter. He’s on a world of strangers and a world where Branded have never existed and he knows it doesn’t matter but it matters to him, even though Ike is the only opinion he truly cares about and Ike doesn’t care, somehow, without him, it still matters.

He mentions the Branded to Kiran casually, awkwardly, after some conversation about sending a bunch of royals out into an army somewhere. He keeps his tone casual, keeps his words casual, but there’s something about saying those serious words so blase that makes everything much worse than it should be.

Kiran blinks, and instead of commenting on it asks, “Soren, I know there’s no one from your world here yet, and I’m sorry. Have you made any other friends here?”

“Friends?” Soren blurts.

Kiran nods. “I mean, no one’s really seen you around much except for meetings. Lucius said he saw you once but that’s it. Just--if you need anything, I’d be happy to he--”

“I need no such thing,” Soren snaps, and brushes past him back into the castle, far from Kiran’s fake pity and the loneliness he can feel creeping into his chest.

* * *

Back in the library, Soren finds his table in the back is already occupied.

He turns on his heel and starts to walk away when he hears a voice from amongst the books. “You don’t have to leave.”

Soren barely glances back at the table. “I do not have to stay, either.”

“Your name is Soren, right?”

Soren finally turns back around. Sitting at the far corner of the table is the blond man from his first day in the library. He smiles, although the smile starts to droop when Soren only glares in response.

He steps forward to examine the tome the healer is currently holding. It is full of a long, curling script that Soren does not understand--it must be some sort of Askran language or something. “Are you even reading that?” he asks incredulously.

The healer shakes his head. “No. I think I grabbed it by accident. I asked one of the Robins to give me some recommendations, but....”

“You’re a healer,” Soren says, in a tone that he hopes conveys the _and not a tactician_ part.

“Yes,” he answers honestly. “And you’re Soren. Kiran told me about you.”

“Told you what? That I was in need of a baby-sitter?”

“No, no,” the man says quickly, “Although Kiran was worried about you. That’s not the point. Kiran said that you’re working hard to find a way to end this war, so I wanted to offer my assistance.”

Soren pauses and watches him. The man watches him with light blue eyes and his gaze does not waver.

“...I don’t need anyone’s help,” he finally says.

“Oh.” The man frowns. “I’m sorry if I bothered you. I don’t think I would be of much help anyway. Spell books are one thing, but some of these books are so old and--”

“Why would you even want to help me, anyway? Don’t you have work to do elsewhere?”

The man freezes for a moment. He pauses, thinking over his words, before speaking again. “I want to help,” he says. “Everyone else focuses on the fighting, but you are the only one who has actually talked about ending the war. I want to end the war, so that I can go home. There’s someone… who needs my help, back on my world. I--he needs me, or he might--”

“You want the war to end so that you can return home,” Soren repeats. “Why don’t you just ask, then? With Kiran’s bleeding heart you’d be home in an instant.”

“I can’t just leave,” the blond blurts, eyes wide. “They need me here. They need healers. They need… well, everyone they can get, really.”

“Then that is your choice. Is there a point in complaining about it? Or even coming to me?”

“Why are you here, then?” The healer challenges. “If you really hate it so much, then why do you stay?”

It’s Soren’s turn to pause for a moment. “...The terms of my contract,” he finally states.

“I see.” The blond tilts his head to one side. “You’re a mercenary, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Does it matter?”

“No. I, too, am a mercenary… of a sort,” he relents with a soft smile. “It’s just… you remind me of someone, I think.” He pauses. When Soren does not speak, he says, “Lucius.”

“What?”

“My name. I figured you weren’t going to ask for it, so I might as well tell you.” Lucius grins. The grin widens, suddenly, and he sits up straight in his seat. “I’ve got an idea for you. A deal. You don’t like talking to people, right?”

Soren scowls.

“But you don’t know any of the people in this army, any of the soldiers you’re helping develop plans to order them about… Robin and Corrin and the other lords, they know some of the soldiers in the army, but there is no one else here from your world, correct? So why don’t I learn more about them for you? I’ll ask about all the other soldiers in the army, and I’ll bring the information back to you, and you can do whatever you want with it.”

Soren sighs. “If I say yes, will you finally leave me alone?”

“Probably not,” Lucius says brightly, “But you can try.”

“If it forces you to go, then please, by all means.”

* * *

Soren does not want to admit that Lucius is probably right.

When planning for the Greil Mercenaries, Soren knows what to expect. He knows who he’s directing. He knows the strengths and weaknesses of the mercenaries and plans accordingly. It’s harder for a team he knows nothing about besides what weapons they like to use.

Lucius finds a way to make himself useful and commits to it. He disappears the first day, but by the second he’s back again, armed with knowledge from a dozen heroes he’s managed to talk to in the meantime. Soren is used to working with noise--considering his home, how could he not?--and he listens absently as Lucius chatters and jots down notes in a blank book he managed to scrounge up somewhere. Some of the information is useful and some of it is just reworded gossip, but Soren goes through his plans and his books and listens to the rants anyway.

“Do you not talk on your own world also or am I just special?” Lucius asks as he re-inks his pen.

Soren barely glances up at him.

“That… actually doesn’t answer my question at all.” There’s silence for the moment, just the scratching of the pen on paper. “You’re from a larger mercenary company, correct?”

“Are you writing about me?” Soren asks incredulously.

“It’s just a question. Are you?”

“Of a sort,” Soren relents. “And you?”

“On my world? It’s just me and my lord--Raven. We’ve been traveling together for a while now. Ever since…”

His voice trails, and Soren does not question it. He knows from experience about not wanting to speak.

* * *

It is rare that Soren is ever called to the battlefield. Soren wants to wave it off to him being tactician--he is already working constantly for this army anyway--and certainly not because Kiran has forgotten about him. The summoner does try, mostly, to cycle through soldiers, and it’s for this reason Soren is not surprised when he is asked for.

Why he is surprised, however, is that Lucius is called alongside him. The blond’s eyes widen in recognition when he sees the mage approach, and then he smiles. “Soren! You’re coming with us?”

Soren ignores the two soldiers standing behind him and clutches his spell book to his chest. “It would appear so.”

“Good! Kiran thought this battle wouldn’t be too tough.” Soren follows the others, ignoring the inane chatter from the other three soldiers, and focuses his mind on the battle ahead.

This is what he understands. For all the strangeness differing Askr and Tellius, this is the part that Soren understands: the battlefield. War is the one thing the two worlds have in common. War is the one thing that will never change.

The battle is the one other place that Soren will like to be because it will allow him not to think. He doesn’t have to think about the entire army. He doesn’t have to think about a place to hide away or that he is still the only soldier from Tellius here. No, all he has to do is fight and keep his fellow three soldiers alive.

Soren does not want to admit that Lucius’s advice has helped him, but it has. Thanks to Lucius, he knows who he’s fighting with--and he knows it is best to let Hinata and Ephraim charge first into battle, while Soren and Lucius stay behind and cover for their messes. It’s not unlike his usual role back in the Greil Mercenaries, and so Soren adapts easily. He takes care of the armored enemies and the ones that slip by the others’ sword and lance, and Lucius covers healing and the few enemies that might remain.

Three battles in, Hinata and Ephraim high five before turning back to the rest of their team. “We’re doing awesome!” Hinata exclaims with an enthusiasm to put Kieran to shame. “Wanna keep going?”

Soren glances behind him. Lucius doesn’t speak, so he shrugs. “Don’t get cocky.”

So the battle continues.

Five battles in Soren glances to his left and watches Lucius stumble. He thinks nothing of it, and covers for it with a blast of wind magic from his tome.

Another battle, and it happens again.

There’s seven battles behind them now, and Soren barely looks behind him to see Lucius dig his staff into the dirt, the only thing keeping him from falling over.

The battle has already started; it’s pointless to call Hinata and Ephraim back. So Soren keeps out of range for this battle, hoping the two can take care on their own, and turns his attention back to the semi-conscious healer. “Lucius. Lucius!”

He moans, softly, and manages to open his eyes. “I’m s-sorry. It’s nothing--”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Soren scoffs, with a cautious look at the battlefield. To his predictions, Hinata and Ephraim seem to be holding their own.

“It’s nothing,” Lucius insists. “Just a--spell. I’m sorry to have worried you. I just--” He lets go of the staff, and grabs it again as his balance shifts.

Soren fights the urge to roll his eyes and waves a hand at the others, who have just gone through their last enemy. “We’re done,” he calls, and the boys nod.

“We’re not,” Lucius says. “I’m fine--”

“We’re done,” Soren repeats.

The others are unaffected, and say nothing about the sudden end as the four begin their trek back to the castle. Kiran is there waiting for them, and goes to Soren first. “So? How did it go?”

“Fine,” Soren says gruffly, and pushes past them into the castle.

Kiran deflates. “But--I thought--”

“Soren!”

He does not slow down for the healer that chases after him. He does glance over his shoulder, though, for a brief second, to see the color has returned to Lucius’s face a bit. “Soren! I’m--I’m sorry--”

“For what, exactly?”

There is no answer.

“You know, you were correct in telling me that I should get to know everyone in the army,” Soren says, “But it seems like you’re missing out on some of the more important details, like your ability to _suddenly pass out in the middle of the battlefield_.”

“Soren, I’m sorry. It’s not that big of a deal, really--see, it’s already gone--”

“‘Not a big deal’. I wonder, will you say that again when you have an enemy’s sword pointed at your neck?”

Lucius sighs, exasperated. “You sound just like _him_. So you’d rather keep me off the battlefield, is that it?”

Soren stops and spins around. He’s surprised to see the fire in Lucius’s blue eyes--so the healer has a temper after all, somewhere deep down--but it doesn’t affect his own anger one bit. “Maybe if it would keep you from killing yourself,” he shoots back, and stomps off.

* * *

Three days, nothing.

For three days, Soren is left alone. Kiran pokes into the library at one point for some questions, but otherwise, silence.

Soren does not want to admit that the silence might affect him. He does not want to admit that he might be--goddess forbid--_lonely_. He doesn’t want to admit that every time he hears footsteps he glances up, wondering if Lucius is returning to the back corner of the library with his stupid notebook and his stupid gossip. No. That would imply that he missed someone, or that he is feeling guilty, and Soren doesn’t care for either of those emotions.

So he works, in silence, in solitude.

For three days.

After the third day all the words start to blend together. Soren pushes the book away and examines the stack around him--he can’t even differentiate from the books he has read and the books he has yet to read and it’s taking all of his restraint not to throw them all off the table when he hears a knocking on the bookshelf.

He looks up and sees Lucius standing before the far end of the table.

“Soren!” He says brightly, and smiles. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while. Here, I want you to meet someone--wait, where did he--”

Soren can only blink as Lucius disappears back into the library. He reappears dragging someone by the arm--a sour looking man with auburn hair, who scowls as he pulls his arm out of Lucius’s grip. “You don’t have to grab me,” he mutters. “You and Priscilla--I’m going to end up with bruises at this rate--”

“Soren, this is my lord Raym--Raven,” Lucius says. “This is Soren, the mage I was telling you about.”

Raven nods, his expression bored. “Is this the last place to go or do you plan on holding me up in the library all day? Although I guess we’re safe from the others here…”

“No, we’re going,” Lucius says, and turns his attention back to Soren. “I promised I’d show Raven around the castle, but I’ll come back later, all right?”

Speechless, all Soren can do is nod, and watches the pair disappear back around the corner. Soren turns his attention back to his work when another person appears around the corner. It’s Lucius’s auburn friend, again. Soren blinks. “Can I help you?”

“So you can talk,” Raven says gruffly. “Look, I--”

His voice trails. Soren blinks, and Raven looks like he’s waiting for the ground to swallow him whole. He shakes his head. “Kiran said that you’ve been hanging out with Lucius,” he finally says. “So--thanks, for looking after him, I guess. He’s surprisingly--”

“Stupid?” Soren supplies.

“Yeah. That,” Raven says with a laugh. “Anyway. Thanks.”

* * *

For three weeks, their deal continues.

Soren does not expect Lucius to keep coming to the library now that his fellow mercenary has arrived, but he does. Sometimes he comes alone, and other times he comes in the company of Raven, who complains about gossip and complains about books and is basically generally annoying. It’s easier to focus, somehow, when Soren’s work is interrupted periodically by others. A few others even come to the back corner of the library in the first few weeks ago, but they’re loud and even more obnoxious, and Soren shuts that down quickly enough that now the only periodic visitor is a redheaded girl that Lucius identifies as Raven’s sister.

Three weeks, and Soren finally feels like he can get used to this place.

At the end of the third week, Lucius is late at their usual meeting spot. Soren thinks nothing of it--and figures that Kiran must have sent him off on some sort of mission--when he and Raven finally appear. Lucius has the same expression Mia gets whenever she’s about to be especially annoying, and so Soren pauses with a pen in the air, giving him his best skeptical look. “What.”

It’s a statement, not a question. Still, Lucius grins. Raven looks like he’s hiding something and Soren concludes that this can only lead to disaster. “Come with us,” Lucius says.

“Why?” “Just come with us,” Lucius insists. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” Soren says, but follows them anyway.

Lucius and Raven lead him through the castle, and Soren realizes quickly that they’re leading him to where Kiran works to summon new heroes. Soren thinks nothing of it--maybe someone from Tellius has finally shown up, like how he’s seen copies of Titania and Oscar in the enemy’s ranks. There are a few other soldiers standing around the castle, murmuring and waiting.

“There you are,” Raven’s sister says when she spots them approaching. “Kiran was really loud--kept shouting things like _finally_! And _thank you, gods_. I’m not sure who was summoned, however.”

“We know,” Lucius says proudly, and grabs Soren to pull him through the crowd to the dias.

_Ike._

Soren blinks. He’s sure, in that moment, that his nonstop studying has caught up with him, and that all he’s experiencing is some elaborate dream. Because there is no way that _Ike_ is the one who has finally been summoned.

He stares.

Raven pushes his shoulder, hard enough to almost knock him over.

For all his cynicism, Soren cannot deny the way Ike’s face lights up when he spots Soren standing there. Soren knows that Ike would have the same reaction towards anyone from their world, but he still has to hold back a smile when Ike waves a hand over his head, calling out his name.

“Oh, that’s right,” Kiran says as Soren approaches the dias. “Soren is from the same world as you, isn’t he? He even mentioned you when he first arrived…”

Ike blinks; Soren scowls. He turns to look behind them and sees that Lucius and Raven are still waiting. Soren looks between the three of them--Kiran looking self-satisfied, Lucius with his stupid grin, and Raven with some sort of mischievous expression that can only mean disaster--and looks back up to Ike’s confused face briefly before realizing he must act quickly to save himself from future humiliation. Before anyone can speak, he grabs Ike by the wrist, pulling him away from the summoner and from the protests all three of them shout as he disappears back inside, away from the crowd.

Ike looks too surprised to speak, but lets himself be pulled along.

* * *

Their impromptu tour is quick, if a little hurried, and of course ends in the library.

Soren briefly curses his own predictability and leads Ike back to his usual spot. Ike follows, of course. He looks bemused as he says, “Let me guess. This is where you spend most of your time, right?”

“Of course. Did you expect otherwise?”

“I guess not.” Ike glances around the library. “I’m glad you’re here, Soren. It would have been odd if I had been the only one here--although I guess that’s what happened to you, wasn’t it?”

Soren shrugs. “I’ve managed.”

“You met friends here anyway, didn’t you? I’m surprised.”

“I did not…” Soren lets his voice trail. He’s not sure how he is supposed to respond. But he can sense Lucius and Raven hiding somewhere in the library behind them, he can positively _sense_ the idiots somewhere, so he sighs dramatically and says loudly, “Of course not. Only that moronic healer who won’t stop following me around and his angry-looking friend--”

“Hey!”

“_Hey_!”

The two protest, and Ike laughs, and Soren finally allows himself to smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fic in a very, very long time! And thank you to the wonderful Wind's Brand zine for letting me write something about one of my favorite Fire Emblem characters ever!
> 
> I still plan on writing more for Fire Emblem in the future! Please stay tuned!
> 
> Some minor notes:
> 
> -This is thinly based on my own FEH experience. Particularly in regards to summoning Ike (although I did summon Titania and Oscar before finally getting him)  
-Lucius adopts all the children in the army and regularly checks up on them  
-Soren and Lucius later team up with Ike and Raven to become my regular Tap Battle team


End file.
